The Enforcer
by Nitrin
Summary: After the end of Season 1, Michael licks his wounds as another Archangel reminds him of who he was and who he is now. Will also explore what happens to Noma and Alex's journey into Gabriel's world. Michael/OC to start, with multiple characters later on: Gabriel, Uriel, Alex, Noma and more.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Needle

After the onslaught of angels versus humans, so many cities became shells of their former glory. Broken infrastructure, abandoned homes, destroyed spaces and various debris littered metropolitans across the world.

In Seattle, it was no different. What was once the glorious restaurant at the top of the Space Needle was now an abandoned perch above the deserted city. A hodge-podge of equipment, broken tables and chairs were strewn about the now abandoned establishment. Some of the windows were blown out and glass was scattered everywhere.

A small clearing was made near one of the glassless windows. A few crates were set up in a large semi-circle as a small boundary between the clearing and the rest of the chaos. Lanterns and candles were placed on top of the crates, dimly illuminating the area. Within the debris-less space sat a queen-sized bed propped up on cinder blocks. Its sheets were in disarray as if its occupant had a restless night.

With his back against one of the cinder blocks, Michael sat barefoot on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him. Dressed solely in his black pants, Michael looked disheveled with tousled hair that had grown a bit in the past few weeks since his departure from Vega. He looked like he hadn't slept in a long time and his usually passive face seemed pensive as he stared out of the glassless window. An empty bottle of bourbon was lying nearby while he lightly gripped another half-empty bottle of bourbon in his hand.

It was just past twilight and the clouds were roiling across the darkening sky. Something winged was weaving between the tufts of grey.

Michael took another gulp and then froze as he noticed the shadow of wings in the distance. He tried to concentrate through his drunken haze, wondering if he was seeing things. And then he saw it again as the winged something was getting ever closer.

Sighing, he didn't move. If someone was coming, it didn't matter. It was better if he just stayed put. The regret and guilt he had felt had been beyond overwhelming as he flew at top speed away from Vega five weeks ago. The image of Becca's blank face and empty eyes as she lay dead and broken on the floor still haunted him. It was burned into his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment trying to banish the stray thoughts that flickered past. Thoughts of his terrible actions. His indiscretions. All the regret, the death, the adrenaline, the intoxication of losing one's self…it was…too much. He took another long draught from the bottle. Drinking was the one thing that seemed to stop some of the images that kept coming every night. Finding alcohol had been a task in itself, but Michael had found some in the restaurant's locked reserves.

He stared at the bottle in his lap for a moment and then looked up at the oversized window as the sound of wings overpowered him. Michael was sure that whoever it was would mostly try to put an end to him. And perhaps it would be the best for everyone if that were the case. Father had abandoned them all for so long. Did it even matter anymore? Alex was probably with Gabriel now after all that had happened. Noma was gone too and perhaps even dead.

And he… he had done something terrible again. His redemption was a lost cause.

A figure landed on the windowsill; a tall dark shadow with dark black and blue wings spread out and overpowering any remaining light from the darkening sky.

Michael looked up at the figure with blurry eyes and a softened look of awe. The bourbon bottle slipped from his fingers and it clattered to the ground as he stayed perfectly still, slumped against the cinder block.

The figure's wings flapped once and then slowly tucked themselves away, disappearing as the darkened one stayed perfectly balanced on the windowsill.

"What did _you_ do, Michael?"

A look of pain crossed Michael's face.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Found

The desert was empty and vast with red sand being kicked up into the air as the wind blew by. A small oasis of green was the only respite from the stark harshness. Small hardy goats were grazing the few patches of grass among a collection of tents and huts that were cobbled together. It was not that long after the Flood, but enough time had passed that the survivors had been able to put together some semblance of a life.

A young boy squatted by a fire, stoking it with a short stick. A water-filled metal cup sat almost in the fire. He waited patiently.

A loud groan came from the small tent behind him. He didn't move, now used to the sound. The boy knew when he had seen the bloodied heap of a man moaning in the desert that it had been the violent murdering Enforcer. Michael's beaten form had been lying by a small collection of rocks and broken wreckage, aching and feverish with infection. The boy knew that he was the Archangel who had killed almost everyone he knew and destroyed the life he had once had. But for some reason, pity was all that came to him upon seeing the angel with broken wings and battered body. Once intimidating and frightening, the angel was reduced to a heap of blood, bruises and bile.

The boy had stopped and given him some of his water. The look that Michael had given him was all that it had taken for the boy to approach him. Michael had questioned him, wondering if the boy knew who he was and if so, why would he help him despite all that had occurred? The boy had responded with, "Because it's the right thing to do." The surprise on Michael's face had been clear, but it only reinforced what the boy knew to be true. That sometimes doing what was right was not always the easiest thing to do, but still the true path. And compassion was not something he had lost, despite all that Michael had done.

He remembered the stricken look on Michael's swollen broken face. He had helped the archangel as best as he could, bringing him to a small shelter he had put together for himself. He tried to help him with his wounds, but the pain that the angel was in was unbearable. And then the fever seemed to make Michael forget where he was, often confused by the boy's presence. He would cry out in pain and call out for his siblings or someone named 'Azrael' while he slept. And often there was some gibberish about his Father.

Days had passed since Michael had been brought to the tent and all the boy could do was try to feed him and be there for him. He had tried to clean the angel's wounds when Michael would allow it, but often the angel would lash out in a haze. His broken wings had stopped bleeding finally, but they were crumpled and useless. Michael had seen better days. The boy had a feeling that the angel was going to die soon. If angels could die. He wasn't really sure.

The water was steaming in the metal cup and the boy carefully pulled it out of the fire with his stick. He was about to pick it up when a dark shadow fell over him from above. A distinctive winged shadow. His heart felt like it stopped all together as he stumbled away from the fire and tried to find the source of the shadow.

The sound of wings beating filled his ears as blind panic made him run back to the tent, quickly tucking inside and falling to his knees near Michael's prone form. The angel lay on his side on a blanket in the dirt. His broken wings were crumpled behind him. The boy scrambled closer to him and then froze. Why should he go to the one angel who had killed everyone he had loved? The confliction distracted him momentarily and then the darkened tent was suddenly illuminated as the tent flap opened and a tall figure stood in the opening. The bright light outside obscured the figure's features completely, making the figure one large imposing shadow. A shadow that fell over the boy.

The bright light fell over Michael and it roused him from his feverish stupor, causing him to squint into the light with one of his eyes. His other one was still swollen shut. He lifted his arm and tried to see who was standing in the opening, having almost no energy to move much of anything else.

The figure moved closer, letting the flap close. In the dim light, the boy shook, still frozen to the spot as he stared up at the tall female angel standing in the middle of the tent. She looked formidable and was dressed in battle armor with two short swords strapped in a crisscrossed fashion at the base of her lower back. With long dark hair and green eyes, she was beautiful and exotic looking with a fierceness that rivaled Michael's pre-Flood days. Her expression was stoic, cold and alien as she looked down at the boy.

"Leave. Now." Her voice was commanding and had a strange lilt to it.

The boy scurried out of the tent after a moment's hesitation, glancing back at Michael only for a second before disappearing outside.

Groaning, Michael had tried to sit up but gave up and instead stared up at her. She was not who he had expected and his heart jumped at the sight of Azrael standing there, staring down at him. Her face looked fierce and angry, as she looked him over.

With voice harsh with disuse, he gravelly asked, "Did Father send you?"

She stared at him blankly with her hand resting on one of the sword handles.

Resigned, he said, "You've come to finish what Gabriel and Uriel have started."

Azrael kept her tone even as she looked at Michael's broken body. It was hard for her to see him this way. "What have you done, Michael?"

He closed his eye and tried not to moan as he shifted once more. The pain in his wings radiated through him. Michael knew he deserved this and couldn't bear to ask for her help, even though he really wanted it.

Azrael's voice was a harsh whisper as she spoke once more. "I left to do as I was told, handle the lower angels and their rebellious acts, only to find when I returned that you were… gone." She paused, her anger fading a little with her concern. "To find Gabriel and Uriel not speaking of you… to the unrest among the higher angels. As if you were gone for good." Her voice lowered as if he had been lost forever. Emotion threatened to get the better of her.

She shifted, her hand leaving the sword finally.

Azrael had still not stepped closer to him and it pained him. All he wanted was for her to hold him now, to hug him and to heal him. He sighed, surprised at his own reaction to her. He had not realized how much he needed her. "I failed Father, Azrael." His voice cracked with disuse and pain.

She stared at him with that unnerving look of hers. Michael wondered if maybe this was what humans felt sometimes when he looked at them. She was thinking and probably weighing his words.

Her head tilted slightly in acknowledgment of him. "It was a test." She paused, still mulling it over. "Unsurprising, I suppose." Azrael stayed still, keeping herself from moving closer to him. From doing what she actually wanted to do which was to hold him. To heal him. To make things right again.

She wasn't sure if Father had really wanted the others to hurt him like this, but it was a small penance for the blood he had shed. Not that her swords were clean of human blood. Or angel blood for that matter. Azrael was known for being brutal and often the other angels wondered why Michael spent any time with her at all.

Supposedly, Father loved them all, as he loved the humans. But the hierarchy was sometimes cumbersome among the angels. Azrael and the other archangels were His soldiers and often had to do things that didn't always make sense to them.

But the Flood had been Michael's rampage. That anger and carnal satisfaction was something Azrael understood. It was an outlet for all the frustration that came with their Order in things. It was a weakness that she kept in check, but Michael had never been tested in that regard. Until now.

And here he was, bloodied and broken. At the hands of his own siblings. And it caused an ache in her chest. The momentary relief she had in finding him was brief when she saw his feverish form.

It had taken her a while to find him, to get answers as to what had happened. She knew something was wrong because she couldn't sense him anymore, which happened often when angels descended upon the World. As if something disconnected them. It must be what humans felt. It was blinding and lonely.

"I failed him. I didn't see what he was asking for…" he whispered, turning his face away from her. He had never cried in front of her before and he didn't want to now.

Maybe he'd been in this World for too long or perhaps the fever had taken its toll. He felt every emotion and it was disconcerting. These strange things that rumbled through his chest, something he had no control over, making him want to cry for days or lash out and beat the life out of someone. He covered his swollen face with his hand and tried to rein himself in.

And then he felt her presence as she kneeled down next to him. Azrael gently took his hand and pulled it way from his face, revealing to her the swelling and bruising that covered it. As she gently smoothed the hair back from his tired face, he hissed at the momentary pain but he didn't move away from her.

"I killed them all. I…lost myself…," he whispered, his one eye looking at her with raw anguish.

"Oh, Michael." She whispered, feeling for him. Carefully, she cradled his face with her hand. He closed his eye again, basking in her attention and relaxing into it. For a moment, her true concerned self showed on her usually stoic face.

"What have _you _done, Michael?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Return

Sitting still against the cinder block, Michael stared up at the figure darkening his windowsill. The crisp Seattle air blew in, filling the room with a light chill. There was a mixture of both relief and sadness that fell over Michael. He had wondered if maybe Azrael was dead, lost to him completely. Or perhaps the World had finally gotten the better of her. It had been so many years since he had last seen her. Since he had last embraced her.

And now she stood in front of him, wearing a soldier's uniform. Her dark hair blew about in the breeze and her unflinching glower made her eyes seem even brighter than usual. Along with the standard-issue Kevlar and guns in holsters, she also had her two short swords sheathed and strapped to her lower back. The uniform looked similar to the Archangel Corps uniform, except that it was black with red accents and a strange red sigil on the front of her vest. Azrael looked well rested and strong as usual.

She jumped down from the windowsill and stood not far from him, glaring down at him with a palpable fierceness. "Where is the Chosen One, Michael?"

Michael picked up the bottle of bourbon and took another swig. "Why don't you ask Gabriel."

Azrael moved quickly, quicker than Michael had expected, as she knocked the bottle from his hands and yanked him to his feet. "What are you doing? Wake up! Everything is falling to pieces!" she yelled in his face, hoping to break his stupor.

He stumbled back for a moment, dazed. But she succeeded in waking his anger again, zapping some life into his exhausted limbs. Michael growled at her, "And how would you know, Azrael? Where have you been all this time?" And then he gestured at her uniform and spat out, "Playing soldier in New Delphi?"

"I have been trying to do what you asked me to do. Keeping the peace, moving pieces into place, playing chess. Uriel has been doing the same!" she responded, loudly.

Michael's expression went blank as he stared at her. His still-drunken body swayed slightly as he quietly asked, "What do you mean? About Uriel?"

"You didn't know? She's been in Helena. She's been playing sides. Even speaking with Gabriel. Who knows what game she is playing now, except that she must not be trusted. Only to serve herself as usual."

"But she…"

Azrael sighed. "They're your siblings. They are treacherous and you know it."

Frustrated, Michael balled his fists and yelled, "I KNOW THAT!"

His outburst didn't faze the other archangel. Her expression didn't change. She didn't even flinch when he stepped closer to her and grabbed her by the upper arms. And then he slammed her against the nearby wall, pinning her against it with his hands still on her. She didn't seem to stop him nor make any defensive actions as she glared back at him and let him rage, hoping she wouldn't have to resort to putting him in his place.

His face was close to hers as he harshly said, "And I am just as treacherous as they are. I'm a monster."

Azrael shifted ever so slightly causing him to look down the length of his own body only to find that she had a small curved blade pressed against his leg where his femoral artery would be.

Quietly, almost hissing, she countered, "If you're a monster, then I am too."

Looking into her face again, Michael spoke in a clipped tone. "Father always turned a blind eye to your way of doing things."

"He needed me to do the things I had to do as much as he needed you to enforce them."

Michael moved even closer to her, despite the blade digging sharply into him. His body leaned heavily into hers, his breath warm against her as he spoke into her ear, "Why did you leave me? I could have used your help in Vega."

"You had Noma. You were fine." Azrael said, evenly without emotion. "And I didn't leave. You left me, remember? To take care of the Chosen One."

Exasperated, Michael gently rested his forehead against hers momentarily, his eyes closed. "I've missed you."

They stood still for the moment as Michael's emotions threatened to tear him apart. The fury that tightened his chest was at war with his need to pull her close. He knew that he had asked her not to reveal herself to the humans, to go to Helena, to play a part. How she ended up in New Delphi as a soldier was beyond him. What had happened to her all this time? And if she knew so much, why hadn't she reached out to him during all these years? He had long since lost track of her, worried about Alex and Vega. And Gabriel's nonsense.

"I didn't leave you, Azrael," he whispered, pained.

"I know."

"The Chosen One needed to be cared for."

She sighed, and then whispered, "And I thought I lost you. Again."

Michael opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. "And yet you found me. Somehow. Now. After all this time."

"I searched for you. No one knew where you had gone. After…" Azrael explained, breaking off only because she didn't know how else to explain her own fears.

The tall angel stared at her in that unnerving, unblinking way of his and then he abruptly yanked the curved blade from her hand and viciously threw it to the floor, his anger winning out. Spinning her around to face the wall, he shoved her against it and pinned her there as he roughly pulled her weapons from their holsters and sheaths and chucked them carelessly at the floor.

He unloaded, angrily, "But you come here as if you're going to _WAR_, Azrael!"

In his tirade, she hadn't made a move, but her own ire had been woken now. _Enough!_ she thought as she threw back an elbow and was glad that it connected. Michael stumbled only for a moment, just enough time for Azrael to turn and defend herself. Only to have her Kevlar vest unceremoniously yanked off by an enraged Michael, leaving her with only her black shirt with red sigil across the chest.

Michael's fury had taken a deeper hold as he grabbed her roughly by the neck and leaned into her again, squeezing it and almost shaking her like a doll. His face was very close to hers, almost kissing distance, as he fiercely spat out, "And yet… what?" He searched her eyes, hoping to find something else. "You've come here now for what reason? You come here for war, Azrael?"

Azrael's panicked expression met his momentarily and then it was gone. She stilled, all the tension purposefully draining out of her. She didn't squirm or move, nor did she pull at his hand squeezing her neck; only her face betrayed some concern as she said quietly, "I heard about House Thorn. About what they were doing in Vega. Doing to our kind, Michael."

His eyes immediately closed tightly as the image of Becca's dead body flickered past and he felt suddenly overwhelmed by the grief of it all. The anger in him suddenly drained out and he came to himself again. Roughly letting go of Azrael, he stepped back and stumbled for a moment, standing in front of her, trying to regain some composure.

Azrael continued, "I was worried. For you."

Michael looked at her with such despair that it reminded her of all those years ago. Just like after the Flood when he was so distraught by what he had done. Azrael wanted to hold him then, as she did now.

He stumbled backwards a little more and then sat on the bed. "Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

"So you thought I would slaughter all of Vega?" Michael stated, coldly and detached.

"No. I thought you were…" Azrael lost her voice just thinking about it. It had made her feel ill when she had heard about what they were doing in House Thorn. All she could think about was Michael and the possibilities of him being hurt or killed.

Michael looked stricken. "Experimented on, like Louis?"

Azrael cautiously moved closer to him. "I came here because I was frightened that I had lost you. That I may never see you again. Because we can sense each other no longer, I could not tell if you were…gone."

Standing in front of him, she stopped just shy of his legs, causing him to look up at her. The blank look that he gave her changed after a moment as she finally gave him a small smile, her own features softening.

"I've missed you too, Michael," she said as she gently touched his cheek and then cupped his face. He leaned into her hand for a moment, remembering her touch, remembering their friendship from so long ago, and remembering her kindness back then. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, leaning his head against her torso.

She ran her fingers through his tousled hair as he closed his eyes and gave into a moment of comfort.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Broken

The wind howled outside as sand blew past their tent. It was a small sand storm that had fallen upon them with an abruptness that was disconcerting. Azrael had secured the tent flap as best as she could to keep the wind from swirling even more sand inside.

Michael coughed in pain and finally stilled, exhausted by the emotional and physical toll. Azrael remained seated next to him, looking at him with love and concern. It was strange for him to see that expressed so openly on her face, but he enjoyed it as much as he could in his state. It was the most raw emotion that he had ever seen in her and it was all for him.

Her eyes were unusually watery with unshed tears. She tried not to chastise herself for allowing him to see her true emotions. She had hidden them away for far too long. "I thought you were gone. Lost to me." She said quietly. "I can't…I could not bear the idea that you…" Her voice trailed off as she tried to remain calm.

Staring at her, he didn't flinch as she again gently touched his face. She looked him over, not bothering to wipe the few stray tears that now fell down her cheek. "Your body, Michael…you must be in so much pain…"

He stared at her, his breathing ragged.

"You need help, Michael. You need Healing. The fever must be broken." She lightly squeezed his arm and then started to move away from him.

Before she could move too far, Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. "Please don't leave me." He whispered, unease in his tone.

She rubbed his arm gently and reassured, "I'm not leaving. But you need to be healed."

"No, he doesn't." A voice said from behind her. "He deserves this."

Azrael turned to find Gabriel in full armor stepping into the tent, a sword in his hand, ready for anything. The howling from the wind had masked the arrival of their intruder. She stood up immediately, her own two swords already in hand.

Michael groaned, trying to sit up. His wings flopped like dead creatures clinging to his back.

"Have you come on Father's orders?" Azrael asked, her ferociousness back in place.

Gabriel sneered at her. "I have come to see how my brother fares. No surprise that you're here too, Azrael." He didn't put away his sword, however, but stepped closer to Michael who kept his gaze trained on Gabriel.

"Stand back, Gabriel." Azrael warned. "You've done enough."

"He needed to be stopped, Azrael." Gabriel told her sternly, careful not to get too close to her.

"And you've done so. Now leave him be." She said in a monotone frightening voice. She was known to be the most ruthless of the archangels and even Gabriel gave pause.

"He is my brother," Gabriel said with a chilly tone, stepping closer to her, to show that he had no fear of her. She didn't seem fazed.

"And you've done enough." She placed herself between Gabriel and Michael, hoping to head off any further assault. It was possible Gabriel had some concern, but she didn't trust him to stay his place.

Gabriel looked past her and at Michael who gave up trying to sit up and lay there pathetically. He still looked at Gabriel with animosity and that made Gabriel feel a little better. Gabriel knew that Uriel had been right, that pain was the lesson that Michael needed to learn in order to understand what he had done. And it was the only way to stop someone so strong and hell-bent on bloodshed. But afterwards, the two of them had wondered if perhaps it had been too much. There had been a little bit of regret and guilt on their part. Michael was still their brother. Still one of them. Leaving him to suffer on this World felt improper.

"He needs to be healed, Azrael." He said with less ferocity and more reasoning.

"Clearly," she responded, angrily. "But you will not be the one to heal him. Leave. Now."

Gabriel kept his sword down, not willing to come to blows with her. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure he would win against her. So he reluctantly acquiesced. His guilt was mildly assuaged as he glanced back before leaving the tent. He looked at Azrael still guarding his brother by moving to block his view of him. Gabriel often wondered what those two had together that always made her so protective of him. "Take care of him. He was not always as brutal as you are. Don't allow him to stay that way."

She didn't respond, watching him as he slipped through the flap and disappeared outside. The wind was slowly dying down and Azrael could hear Gabriel's wings as they took him away from their meager sanctuary. It slowly became quiet outside and the only sound she could hear was Michael's labored breathing.

Brutality was rarely something she shied away from. It was part of her "chores" as Michael liked to call them. Perhaps God had made her that way on purpose, capable of doling out what He needed doling out. But for Gabriel to look at her with such disdain…it ruffled her feathers in an unpleasant way. As if she had caused Michael's slaughter of the humans. As if perhaps she was to blame for his delight in the carnage?

Michael coughed and then groaned, curling in on himself. "I did deserve it, Azrael. The blood and violence… it was…intoxicating. I couldn't stop myself."

She continued to stand there with her swords drawn, thinking. If she hadn't been dealing with the lower angels, would she have been able to keep Michael in line? She loathed thinking that she would have been pitted against him. Then again, perhaps He knew this and that's why she was asked to take care of the lower angels? Why not send the Powers? It had seemed a little odd at the time, but she followed His orders often without questioning them. However, the Powers could have easily done the task that she was given. Her particular abilities were not truly needed at that time. Unless…

"It was a test for both of us," she said quietly, more to herself. She put her swords away as she turned back to him.

Michael slurred, almost incoherently, "I failed the test…"

Kneeling down again, Azrael tried to calm him by touching his hand. He seemed to slip away into a feverish dream, body slightly twitching in response to whatever he was seeing. She sighed, wondering how long he would need to be fully recovered.

The wounds on Michael's torso, legs and wings were festering and infected at this point and haven't healed. That Gabriel and Uriel would use their swords on him at all showed the gravity of the situation. It made her furious and had Michael not been in the tent with them, Azrael would have given Gabriel a taste of his own medicine.

She leaned over and stroked Michael's cheek for a second. He was not doing well. Sitting back from him, one of her wings emerged and Azrael carefully pulled out a small navy blue feather from the inner edges. Quietly, she stood up and left the tent in search of an open flame.

As she opened the tent flap, Michael opened his eye and watched her in his feverish haze. The brightness that fell over him also surrounded Azrael and softened her features, blurring the edges around her body, as if she had a white aura. He couldn't help but be reminded of Home with all that light swirling about her. She paused just outside the tent, arm still holding the flap open, with concern etched on her face as she looked at him. It was then that he realized how much he loved her. How much he was grateful for her presence.

And how much he had also failed her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Howling

The cold bit into the side of the sheer mountain cliffs as tufts of white blanketed the world around it. The wind was howling and shifting the drifts of snow, making it hard to see much of anything in the distance.

Alex Lannon stood on the ledge just outside the opening to Gabriel's domain. The fur trim on his jacket kept fluttering up and tickling his chin. It reminded him of a moment when he was a child. It was a moment when Michael was actually comforting to him; something that didn't happen often while Alex was growing up.

It had been winter in Vega and he was about twelve years old. There was a cold snap and Alex had been shivering uncontrollably outside of one of the shelters in the main square, waiting in line for his next meal. He didn't know where the archangel came from, or how he had even seen him in the throng of shivering people, but suddenly Michael was standing in front of him with a warm jacket and new shoes. As per usual, the archangel's expression was hard to read and his gaze was unblinking and all encompassing. Alex could barely look up at the tall imposing figure, let alone reach out and take the clothing.

Somehow Michael understood that and after a moment, he kneeled down and gently helped the boy, his own expression softer than usual. Alex was in awe of the angel, staring at him, studying the angel's face with his mouth slightly agape. He didn't quite understand why the almighty archangel of Vega was paying him any notice at the moment. It wasn't the first time he'd encountered him of course as Michael had always somehow been in his life over the years, but Alex didn't understand why or for what purpose. The fur trim on that warm jacket tickled his chin as Michael had zipped it up. Alex remembered how Michael had paused and looked at him with a serene smile on his face. It changed the angel's whole demeanor and it made Alex feel special for once. Almost as if he were loved and cared for.

And then the angel stood up, breaking the moment. Alex remembered staring up at him and trying to mumble, "Thank you," but instead botched it, stammering as Michael's face was stoic once more, turning to eye their surroundings. Looking back down at him, Michael coolly instructed, "You must sleep inside tonight. If you cannot find shelter, come to the Archangel Corps. You'll be sorted out. Tell them I sent you." The look on his face was of concern and sternness. It seemed strange at the time. Now, of course, Alex knew better. Michael was only taking care of his precious Chosen One. Of his potential redemption.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, listening to the howling that the wind was making around him. It was whipping through his hair and making him feel alive again, something that had been lacking for the past few weeks. The memory of Michael and his fury in the House Thorn lab surfaced once more, definitely not for the first time since Alex made his journey to Gabriel's aerie. The expression on Michael's face as he woke from his rage was ingrained in Alex's mind. Every time he remembered that look, it was gut wrenching. Alex would suddenly feel ill and often had to take a moment to compose himself. After all that the angel had taught him, it had boiled down to that moment. And it had hurt.

Where was Michael now? Alex had wondered where he had flown off to. He didn't really know how to contact him or what to do next. Standing in that lab with broken and dead bodies and poor Louis… Alex shuddered for a moment. It could have been Michael. Becca Thorn could have done _that_ to Michael.

Alex opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air.

"Planning your escape, are you, Chosen One?" Gabriel's voice seemed to creep over him like the cold wind. Alex hadn't noticed his presence, but he would bet that the archangel had probably been standing in the entrance way for a while, keeping tabs on his new protégé.

Turning to the angel, Alex plastered a small smile on his face and tried to remember to be placating. "Of course not. Where would I go anyway?"

Gabriel studied him for a moment, leaning against the nearby stone wall, his arms crossed. "At this point, without wings, it would be suicide." He motioned to the swirling snow and lack of visibility.

Alex nodded at him and strode past him, back through the entrance. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?" he said, in a rather sarcastic tone.

Gabriel actually laughed and turned to follow him, clapping him on the back. "Oh, Alex. You're quite amusing when you want to be, aren't you? Why don't we go see what Furiad has for us today, hmm?"

Alex tried not to cringe when Gabriel touched him. It took a lot of effort to always pretend to be amiable and excited by whatever new "adventure" Gabriel came up with. He knew that the angel was probably testing him to see how far his new allegiance would go.

_Damn it, Michael. You were right._ Alex thought, chastising himself again for coming all this way and staying here. If Noma wasn't still under Gabriel's control and Alex could find some way to walk away from this gilded cage, he would already be across the country by now. Unfortunately, this plan, which they had come up with before Michael had lost himself, was a long shot. At first, Noma had given him an ear-full for even contemplating this plan at all.

Originally, Noma would go to Gabriel and make him understand that Alex had turned against Michael, that he would be open to Gabriel's influence. And then Alex would eventually go to Gabriel to offer his allegiance, and learn as much as possible about the tattoos, perhaps even what he was meant to do as the "Chosen One" and why Gabriel was so set on Alex joining him in the first place. But Michael had warned him, sternly, that Gabriel would use every manipulative tactic possible to get Alex to do what he wants. They hadn't quite finished the plan before Michael actually did do something that made Alex rethink his allegiance to the archangel.

As he walked alongside Gabriel, Alex couldn't help but rub his chest for a moment. It felt like something heavy was sitting on it, as it usually did when he started thinking about Michael and everything they had gone through. Although Alex sometimes had trouble understanding the archangel and his tactics, he had still always respected him. He was a father figure to him, despite all the tough love and harshness over the years. The tears Michael had shed in his childhood home were genuine and Alex knew that the angel had lost complete control of himself when he saw one of his own kind tortured in the manner that Louis had been.

Alex had to believe that wherever Michael was, he was remorseful and probably trying to come up with another plan for redemption. He had to believe that the Michael he knew was still somewhere out there. Looking over him from afar, planning to intervene when it was most needed. He had to believe that.

"New Delphi has been organizing, Gabriel." Furiad's voice broke Alex's pensiveness.

They stood by a beautifully crafted long dining table with Gabriel now lounging in an oversized ornate dining chair with one of his legs over the armrest. He was crunching into an apple and staring at Furiad who stood rigidly nearby, hand on a large colorful map laid out on the table. Gabriel hadn't been all that forthcoming with his plan for New Delphi, but he had been sending angels to scope out their resistance capabilities. It was clear he had at least three angels already inside the settlement, hidden among the humans.

"Organizing how?" Alex asked. New Delphi was still a mystery to him. He had lived in Vega his entire life and Gabriel's aerie was the furthest he had traveled. He had heard rumors of the chaos and the outlaw life that New Delphi had to offer, but he had no clue as to how it actually was there.

Furiad glanced at the Chosen One. The young human irritated the angel. He wasn't sure if it was because of Noma's connection to him or that he was a human who had so much sway over all of their actions. What was so special about this mortal vessel? His stoic face stared coldly at him for a moment and then looked again to Gabriel, ignoring the question.

Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle at Furiad's reaction, but he needed the angel to cooperate. "Answer the question, Furiad."

Alex tried not to sigh loudly. It was clear that most of the angels didn't want to have anything to do with him. Noma was the only smiling face that he had seen in the last few weeks. Well, other than Gabriel's unnerving grin.

"They have soldiers. They will no longer be lawless at this rate. Someone has taken hold as a leader."

"Soldiers? Really?" Alex asked, shifting closer to the table and the map.

Gabriel munched on his apple, watching both of them as he thought. It was clear the archangel was debating something. Or perhaps plotting his next step. "And the leader? Is it who we think it is?"

"Unconfirmed." Furiad kept an eye on Alex as the human got closer to the map. The map was of North America and had several markings across the continent. Vega was clearly marked, as was Helena to the south. At the top northwest part of the continent, further inland rather than on the coast like Helena, was a scribbling, clearly denoting where New Delphi was established.

"So what? All of a sudden an army of soldiers invaded and took over? Or one of the crew bosses got stronger and recruited some of their outlaw friends to be part of a new army?" Alex asked, pulling the map closer, noticing Furiad tensing, clearly not happy that he had touched his precious map. Crew bosses were supposedly vicious leaders that were in charge of criminal syndicates. They seemed to be the ruling class of New Delphi and most citizens supposedly kept to their smaller chaotic ventures, trying hard not to piss off the crew bosses.

Gabriel shifted his leg down, sitting normally in the chair as he finished chewing his apple and then chucked the core over his shoulder onto the floor. An 8-ball scurried into the room and picked it up, then quickly disappeared out through another doorway across the room. No one acknowledge the 8-ball's presence. Although now used to the strange way that Gabriel's loyal 8-balls acted like servants, Alex still bristled at the way they shuffled and moved out of fear around the archangel and himself.

"I need to know if it is true, Furiad. I need to know if our plan will be thwarted by him." Gabriel said, frustrated.

"Who?" Alex asked, looking up at them.

Furiad didn't move, but Alex could tell there was a shift in his already agitated mood. He didn't know if Furiad really was loyal to Gabriel, or if he just threw his lot in with him because he wanted to be rid of humans. "You haven't told him, Gabriel?"

Gabriel gave him an exasperated look. "Does the Chosen One really need to know _everything_?"

"Hey! I'm standing right here. What are you not telling me?" Alex asked, sternly. Something shifted on his arm and he knew immediately that it was the tattoos. They did that occasionally, especially since he came to Gabriel's. They seemed to be trying to tell him something, but unfortunately, he was never alone long enough to look at them. And he was not about to let Gabriel know that they were communicating with him. The archangel was already too interested in them, constantly trying to get Alex to slip up and spill more information than he intended.

Gabriel stood up and stretched in a feigned lazy way. "Oh, it doesn't really matter to you anymore, Alex."

Alex tried to puzzle out what he was insinuating as Gabriel stepped closer to Furiad. The other angel looked like he wanted to step away from him, keeping his eyes trained on Gabriel.

"Furiad, confirm it and report back to me." Gabriel shoved Furiad roughly in the chest. "Don't come back until you know for sure."

The red-armored angel immediately disappeared out of the room, not hesitating to put as much distance as possible between himself and the archangel.

"Who is in New Delphi, Gabriel?" Alex asked, pointedly.

Gabriel studied Alex for a moment and then a grin spread across his face. He had a glint in his eye and it was clear that something malicious was on his mind.

"Really shouldn't matter who it is, Chosen One. You're here to hone your skills and do as you're told."

Alex stared at him. "Is that what I'm doing here? Because you haven't told me anything I didn't know already. You haven't 'taught' me anything new! I'd be better off with Michael at this point!"

Gabriel visibly bristled at his brother's name, which was exactly what Alex was going for. He retorted in anger, "Michael is useless! You have no idea what he's done, his inabilities… you want to go back to that? His motivations are not as pure as you once thought! But you know that, otherwise you wouldn't be here!"

"Why are you so focused on New Delphi? What the _hell_ do you want with me?" Alex yelled, losing his ability to control himself. The tattoos were moving rapidly, making his skin crawl. It pissed him off because all he wanted to do was take his shirt off and see what they would tell him. Maybe they'd give him something that would finally help him. Or at least point him in the correct direction. This feeling of being lost was driving him crazy.

Gabriel crossed the few steps to Alex and roughly grabbed him by the neck, squeezing just enough to get his point across. His own blood rage was hard to keep in check sometimes, and he had to remind himself to be careful with the Chosen One. With anger distorting his face, he growled, "Hell? What do you know of hell? When the slaughter starts again, Alex, you will understand exactly what hell is."

Alex's heart was beating so hard, he thought it might actually burst from his chest and fall onto the floor. The idea of that was so absurd that he had the urge to smile.

And then it dawned on him that that was exactly what he should do. Unhinged. It was exactly what Gabriel would not expect. And so he started laughing.

Gabriel looked confused for a moment, defusing his own anger. "You think that is funny, Chosen One?"

And Alex laughed even harder, making him seem even more deranged. He choked out, "You have know idea…about anything, do you?" Alex reveled for a moment at the archangel's strange expression.

It confused and then infuriated the archangel for a moment, causing Gabriel to tighten his hold on his neck, strangling the laughter right out of Alex. "It won't be so funny when the Flood starts again. You are still human, despite the message from Father written all over you. You think you're immune?"

Alex was having a hard time breathing so he hit Gabriel uselessly in the chest, hoping he would let go of him finally. It made the archangel grin at him again, reveling in the power that he had over Alex. Gabriel yanked him closer and harshly whispered to him in his ear, "You have no idea what is coming."

And then he slammed Alex to the floor, letting go of him at impact. Stunned, Alex tried to move away from the angel that was looming over him with that disturbing grin of his. Coughing and gasping for air, Alex slowly regained control of himself as he sat up, shuffling backwards.

"It would be best for you to know your place, Alex. If you would only see things my way, then you wouldn't have to walk around here, pretending all the time. Do you really think I didn't know that you are not fully committed to our cause? I'm not blind, Alex." Gabriel put one hand on his hip and another hand waggling his finger at Alex as if he were a teacher chastising his student. "Your precious Noma…tisk tisk…be very careful what you do, Alex. Noma might regret your actions as much as her own."

Alex took a deep breath and scrambled to his feet, keeping his distance, smartly so.

"No words now, Chosen One?" Gabriel inquired.

Sighing, Alex shook his head.

"Besides, would you really want to be in New Delphi? It's full of criminals. Distasteful." Gabriel said, almost seriously, and then he smiled, that mischievous glint back in his eyes.

"Why? Were you planning to send me to New Delphi?" Alex asked, fishing.

"You did say you were thinking about returning to Michael's tutelage," Gabriel said as he walked to the nearby doorway that the 8-ball had previously scurried through.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, confused. "Is Michael in New Delphi?"

"Let me know when Furiad returns." Gabriel said over his shoulder as he left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Restless Night

Night had fallen, and the wind had died down somewhat. Yet the hallways and cavernous rooms still held a chill from the frigid air outside. There was no way to truly know the time in the windowless room that Noma was staying in. Neither windows nor clocks decorated the small space that was carved out of rock inside Gabriel's aerie.

On a queen-sized bed shoved up against the cavern wall, Noma lay huddled under a few blankets, shivering slightly. Her back faced the entrance to her room, as she no longer cared if someone were to creep up on her and kill her in her sleep. She was exhausted and numb after many weeks of being stuck inside. And she wondered what the point was really. She hadn't always been a fighter, a skill more born out of necessity than any desire to do so; being taunted and threatened constantly was taking its toll on her.

Lying there with her eyes closed, Noma tried to picture herself flying again, among the clouds and in the fresh air. A spark of frustration shot through her and she turned onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. The rock's jagged edges had most likely been smoothed and worn down by water and time. She liked to trace the fissures in the rock with her eyes as she counted them. It was oddly relaxing and kept her mind from straying to memories. Memories that only led to more thinking. Thinking about Michael. Thinking about Alex.

One such memory seemed to keep resurfacing lately. _Probably because of all of Alex's questions_, she thought, once again turning to the wall and squeezing her eyes shut.

After Gabriel started slaughtering humans and the war against them began, Noma had decided to stay neutral and stayed away from the onslaught. She had no quarrel with His creatures and would rather have peace and harmony if possible. It wasn't surprising to her that the lower angels went to the World to take human form; they had held a grudge against the humans as well as the higher angels for a long time. It was their chance to finally do as they pleased, without Father scolding them by sending Michael or Azrael or even the Powers to quell them, without any retribution for their behavior. They took everything to an extreme, as they were wont to do. Gabriel encouraged it and they willingly followed his lead.

So Noma stayed away, despite Michael asking her to help him. He understood her decision and didn't force her to descend with him. She had always had a soft spot for Michael and he seemed to have one for her as well. He had been a friend to her for many years, but never in a romantic way, more so as an older brother's love for his younger sibling. She had been a good soldier for him in the past, doing as he asked, but this time, she had made it clear she would not descend to the World to take on Gabriel's rage. As usual, Michael had Azrael as his partner in these matters, even if Azrael was only going begrudgingly, probably more out of loyalty to him than any other reason. Azrael didn't share Michael's love for the humans. Noma wasn't really sure what Azrael cared about, if anything at all.

Gabriel's change in demeanor wasn't exactly a surprise to most of the higher angels. He had been grumbling and listening to Lucifer long before the fallen angel had left Home. But for Gabriel to take such brutal actions as soon as Father disappeared, it seemed almost calculated. Gabriel's actions were traumatizing to most of the angels, especially with the aftermath of Him disappearing. So many felt lost and didn't want to get involved, but the threat of their Home slowly decaying and ceasing to exist made for a compelling argument; eventually all of them would have to descend down to the World in order to survive, so why not cleanse it of the creatures who were destroying it? If He didn't return soon, all of them would eventually have to join the humans in the World. For better or worse.

Noma wrapped her arm around her torso and burrowed further under the blanket. She missed Home. It was beautiful and filled with light and warmth. And the feeling of the other angels, always knowing who was who, all connected…it was an indescribable feeling and she missed it so.

And then the light had started to fade. And Noma had watched as Michael fought the lower angels as well as the humans who didn't trust him at first. He had been searching for someone or something as he tried to defend as many of the humans as he could. Azrael was then on a warpath, destroying any 8-balls on sight. She too searched for something and Noma didn't know what or who; she wasn't privy to the information as she stayed in their Home, waiting and hoping that all of them would come to their senses. That He would return.

But then the war had really gotten out of hand and she missed the angels who had left Home. She missed Michael. He was her family, despite how his real siblings had treated her. Uriel and Gabriel were not fond of Noma for some reason. So Noma decided then that perhaps it was time to assist, to be by his side.

One afternoon, Noma had descended onto the World, finding Michael and Azrael in the middle of nowhere, standing outside of an old house. They were having a heated argument and it was the first time that Noma had ever seen Michael raise his voice to Azrael. The two of them were very close and often the other angels wondered if they were more than just mere comrades.

Michael's voice echoed in Noma's memory. "I have to do this, Azrael! This is for all of us!" His angry pained expression was clear at the time as he faced the formidable archangel. Azrael was wielding her infamous short swords and staring at him coldly. The look of shock at his outburst had long since fallen off of her face and disappeared behind her stoic mask.

Noma shuddered thinking about Azrael and her cold detached demeanor. She was one of the higher angels that Noma usually avoided. It was better to avoid Azrael altogether if possible. As most angels would avoid her, Michael was really Azrael's only true companion.

The two had stood there in a locked glare for a moment before Noma made her presence known. Michael turned to Noma with the same angry expression on his face, and it gave Noma pause.

Her wings were out and ruffled in the breeze that passed by them. She never liked putting them away while at Home, but down on the World they seemed to shift and move a little differently. It was easier to deal with her surroundings when they were tucked inside, so a moment later they were collapsed and gone. Noma remembered looking at the two archangels and noticing how different they looked in their modern human garb. They no longer wore armor as the archangels usually did, or even what Noma was wearing at the time, which was something that would surely make her stand out among the humans. She had worn a tunic and an odd type of pleated skirt, and a small sword hung at her waist.

Michael had shifted and then stood a little taller as his hands grazed the hilts of his swords. He had not pulled them out against Azrael, despite his anger, but Noma's presence seemed to have reminded him of where he was. His expression softened in that moment. "Noma," he paused. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to aid you, Michael," she had said, hesitantly, and then glanced at Azrael, who stayed frozen in place and still focused on Michael. "It looks like you might need it, that is."

Michael shifted his jacket a little, glancing at Azrael who still hadn't put her swords away. "We were only having a…discussion."

"We have no use for you here, Noma." Azrael had said, coldly, without looking at her as she shifted back a few more steps and slowly put her blades away. "It's clear that Michael will do as he pleases. Despite reason."

Noma remembered how Michael gave Azrael an exasperated look. "You know that he is the key to all of this, Azrael."

"I don't know anything. And neither do you." Azrael glared at him.

Something crashed inside the house behind them and a stream of curses could then be heard through the door. A moment later, a baby begun crying loudly.

Michael immediately ran to the house at that time and without hesitation slammed open the door, disappearing inside.

Azrael sighed and then followed with Noma not far behind.

The image of a man slowly standing up in the middle of a debris-strewn living room was still clear to Noma. He was rubbing his knee as Azrael picked up a nearby overturned chair and set it next to him. The man sat down carefully, looking disheveled as Michael walked into the room, carrying a small baby in his arm. The child had stopped crying and was staring up at the angel.

"Are you all right, Jeep?" Michael inquired of the man.

"I'm fine. I just tripped over this…mess," Jeep responded, still rubbing his arm. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days. Absently rubbing his arm, Jeep pulled up his sleeve. Noma noticed then the scrawling tattoos decorating his arm. Something about them seemed oddly familiar to her at the time and then it had dawned on her that they looked like the ones that Michael had on his body before he left Home.

She recalled watching as Michael smiled contently down at the baby. It was a genuinely warm smile and not something that Noma had seen in a long time. _What was so unique about this child?_ she had thought. Jeep then stood up and reached for the baby and Noma could see Michael hesitate for a moment before handing him over.

Jeep cooed down at the baby with the beaming love of a father. Noma could tell it had affected Michael as he watched the pair. Meanwhile, Azrael had remained standing further away, clearly contemplating the scene.

"You can't come running every time something breaks, Michael," Jeep said, quietly to the angel. He hadn't seemed hesitant to tell the angel what he thought.

"As I've told you before, I will not leave you unprotected." Michael stood still, having clasped his hands behind his back in that soldier stance that he often adopted.

"You can't always protect us." Jeep responded, fierily.

"No, he can't." Azrael chimed in from across the room.

Michael stayed still, unblinking.

"Are you sure, Michael? That he is…that these are…" Jeep looked at his exposed arm. "That these are from…Him? What if my boy isn't who you think he is?"

Michael nodded with confidence. "He had the Radiance when I found him in her arms."

Jeep cringed visibly at the mention of the child's dead mother who had tried to protect the boy.

Surprised by the exchange, Noma spoke up, "The Chosen One?"

They turned to look at her, as if suddenly remembering that she was there. Azrael shifted to her right, as if she had heard a noise suddenly.

"We are not alone." Azrael had pulled her two swords out immediately and Michael did the same.

"Noma, protect them," Michael commanded and then immediately hurried after Azrael who had went for the door, leaving Noma to stand between whatever foe was outside and the shaking man holding his child.

Recalling such moments, Noma shifted in her bed once more, shivering again, only now not from the cold, but from the images of her past. She recalled a frightened Jeep who held the crying Chosen One in his tattooed arms. The clear image of them was still engrained in her mind. That expression of pure fear on Jeep's face and the sound of the baby as he started to cry once again.

It was the first time she had ever laid eyes on Alex Lannon.

And it was the first of many times that she decided to protect him. Protect him from the 8-balls, from the world, from himself…

…from the angry higher angels.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Night in the Aerie

Still unable to fall asleep, Noma stared at the rock wall in front of her. It frustrated her that she had too much time on her hands. Too much time to think. "Damn it," she hissed at herself, rubbing her eyes and squeezing them shut again.

She knew that Michael had entrusted her with Alex's safety time and time again as well as other humans that he was trying to protect. And she had willingly been a part of their plan, even when she was sent away to deal with 8-balls out in the Cradle while Vega and the other settlements were still being established. Noma was willing to follow Michael's orders because there was something different about the child, something that may hold the key to His return.

When Noma returned years later at Michael's request, she hadn't realized how much Alex had grown into a young man. It became clear how much she would be involved in his daily life, posing as a soldier in Archangel Corps. So often, she had wanted to tell him who he really was and even who _she_ really was. And then when she started to have those…emotions for him, she knew she had to pull away.

Michael had seen the change in her, and had warned her sternly. "Remember your purpose, Noma," Michael had said to her, with that serious glint in his eyes.

And yet, she couldn't stop loving Alex. Even when she knew he was in love with someone else. It was a strange feeling that warmed her chest whenever she saw him. Noma didn't quite understand it. The attachment and sense of protection that she felt towards him. She had tried to distance herself, but he needed her and she knew it. And so did Michael. And then Louis, possessed by Gabriel, pushed her out of Michael's window and she flew for the first time in years. It had been exhilarating and at the same time heart-wrenching, knowing that Alex would probably look at her differently after finding out who she really was after all that time.

And he did look at her differently. Painfully so.

That look of betrayal had only recently started to fade while they dealt with Gabriel in the aerie. While they tried to implement a fallible plan. Alex stayed close to her whenever possible and clearly didn't like it when they used her as leverage against him. She could tell by the look on his face. Noma knew she was a liability to him. That he would probably try to protect her at the cost of his own life. And although a small part of her felt touched by that thought, the other practical part knew that she was a detriment to him.

The door behind her opened with a small creak and then quickly shut. Noma froze at the sound, almost holding her breath, wondering who it could be. She hoped it wasn't Furiad.

"Noma?" Alex whispered behind her. "You awake?"

She relaxed and turned to him, giving him a smile as he slowly sat down on her bed and kicked off his shoes. Noma sat up and looked him over. He was still wearing that jacket of his and seemed agitated with that tense look on his face. It was the look he used to get when he was concentrating on an attack formation back at Archangel Corps headquarters in Vega.

She touched his arm without saying anything and he looked up at her and tried to give her a smile, but she could tell it didn't touch his eyes. She lifted the blankets for him and he didn't hesitate to move under them, lying down on his side with his back facing her. Soothingly, she ran her hand over his hair for a moment and then settled in behind him, putting her arm around his torso and holding him close to her body.

The room was cold and he seemed to be shivering despite their combined warmth and the jacket he wore. Noma remained silent, letting Alex relax for a moment. He was so tense that she knew dealing with Gabriel and Furiad was taking a toll on him.

"This isn't working, Noma." Alex said, quietly.

She rubbed his arm. "You mean being stuck in an aerie with an angry archangel? Believe me, I know."

Alex sighed and then pulled away, turning onto his back so he could look at her. "Michael was right. You were right. Gabriel is…" He huffed with frustration.

"What happened, Alex?" Noma gently touched his face.

"Do you think Michael would go to New Delphi?" Alex asked.

Surprised by his question, she moved back a little and propped her head up with her hand. Contemplating, she said, "It's possible. But that would be a strange move."

"What's there for him? What's there for Gabriel?"

After a moment, Noma said, "Man power. Larger population than Vega."

Alex stared up at the ceiling, musing, "So Vega has nuclear reactors, Helena has a bomber and some helicopters, and New Delphi has a large amount of…thieves? Doesn't track. Gabriel would gain more from taking Vega."

Noma knew he was fishing. She had been to New Delphi, of course, in the early days when it really was a cutthroat settlement. It slowly became more organized as time went by, but she hadn't been back there in a long time. "Michael could start a new Archangel Corps there, if he convinced the right crew bosses."

Alex scoffed, "Crew bosses aren't known for their cooperative nature."

Noma looked him over. "Gabriel's pushing for New Delphi?"

Alex groaned and then rubbed his face. "Yes. And he's making it sound like Michael is there, spearheading a resistance. It doesn't make sense. And I don't understand what Gabriel wants from me? Nothing he's told me has been useful."

Noma laid her head down and then reached a hand out to touch his chest. "And these…?"

Alex turned to her, studying her face for a moment. "They keep moving, Noma." He unzipped his jacket and took her hand so it rested directly on his chest. "Whenever Gabriel is around."

Noma nodded. "And you can't exactly pull your shirt off every time that happens."

"Especially around him. He is as bad as his sister with these things." Alex sighed, his hand still on hers, rubbing a thumb over it.

Noma was very aware of Alex's every touch and movement, and so glad for his company. When he first came to the aerie, he would barely sit near her. He was still angry and even more so that he was there, in Gabriel's reach. She could tell that he was also hurting, walking around with a pained expression on his face, trying desperately to fake a smile when speaking with Gabriel. He wasn't really fooling anyone, though. At least, not her. She knew him too well.

She had been both relieved to see him and upset by the news that he had given her about Michael, as well as the fact that Alex came to the aerie at all. She had hoped that he would stay away until it was absolutely necessary. But since Michael wasn't in the picture…

"You should have gone to New Delphi yourself, Alex." Noma blurted out, revisiting an old topic.

Anger flared up in Alex as he stared at her. He shoved her hand away and sat up, pulling away from her. "I'm not going over this again."

Noma sat up quickly as well, immediately regretting her words. "No, I know. It slipped out… I'm just worried. I'm worried all the time, Alex." She touched his shoulders and he leaned away from her touch, so she sat back and dejectedly stared at his jacket.

When he had arrived and Gabriel finally allowed him to see her, they had spent nights talking and planning. And arguing. Often. Mostly because Noma wanted him to leave and put distance between Gabriel and himself, and he did not. He wanted to glean as much as he could from Gabriel. Occasionally, he stayed with her at night, sleeping side-by-side or holding each other. It was comforting to her as well as him, but it was nothing else. Despite her hidden desire for more.

And here she was ruining what hard-won peace they had established. She knew it was difficult for him, dealing with Gabriel and the inexplicable nature of the tattoos, and she worried for him daily. She didn't care anymore about her own safety. She just wanted him to be somewhere else, where Gabriel couldn't get to him. Couldn't influence him. Where he could read the symbols in peace without any prying eyes.

Alex slumped a little as he ran his fingers through his hair. In a small voice, he asked, "Why would he go there and not tell us?"

Noma's heart clenched. She had been wondering the same thing. Why would Michael abandon them and start a new plan without them? She moved closer to him, tentatively touching him and then leaning her forehead against his back as she wrapped her arms around his torso. "I don't know," she said, quietly.

He didn't pull away, leaning back against her. "I just feel…" he sighed, at a loss for words.

"Lost," Noma whispered.

He didn't respond, and they sat there for a few moments in the silence.

And then he opened the rest of his jacket and pulled away from her, standing up. Noma pulled back as well, sitting against the wall, looking at him with a small sad smile.

"Leaving? Going to bed?" she asked, softly.

As if in response, he pulled his jacket off and threw it to the side. And then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him bare-chested with the tattoos exposed. He looked down at the ones that were now moving on his right pectoral muscle. They had started moving as soon as Noma touched him. He glanced at them and then up at Noma's expectant face. "They've been telling me the same thing for a few weeks now."

Noma didn't move. She wanted to encourage him to continue, but she didn't want to inadvertently push him to leave either. So she gave him space. And stayed still.

"They move when you touch me, Noma." He said to her, his expression softening. "It always reads, 'Greater love has no other than this.'"

Noma's heart felt like it might grow it's own set of wings. She didn't know what to make of his expression. He must already know how much she loved him. Noma had tried to keep it to herself, but he must have known all this time.

"When Gabriel is near, I have gotten a glimpse of this one from time to time," Alex said, pointing to his left forearm. "It always reads, 'love your enemies, keep them close.'"

"Just like when they told you not to trust those close to you? When Michael was nearby?"

Alex sighed. "Maybe I should have listened to them."

Noma shook her head, "You don't understand, Alex. Michael is not your enemy."

"I _know_ that, Noma! Don't you think I know that?" Alex spat out, his shoulders tense again as he stared at her with his hands splayed out. His tormented expression was breaking her heart.

She didn't say anything more, her whole demeanor quiet and shut down. They had discussed Michael's departure at length before and have always ended up feeling worse for wear.

Alex shook his head with that pained look. He gazed at her and she could tell he wanted to say something else, but instead he sighed heavily.

And then he did something she hadn't expected. He crawled onto the bed to her and paused in front of her, cupping her face with his strong hands. "Greater love has no other than this," he whispered, and then leaned in slowly, as if waiting for her to stop him. When she didn't move while observing him intently, Alex kissed her softly and she responded in kind. Pulling back after a moment, he gazed at her with a softness that she had seen only a few times before. His thumb caressed her cheek and he smiled at her. "Nomes…"

Noma didn't know what to do. This was what she wanted, what she desired so much that it hurt. But she still remembered who and what she was as well as the fact that he was the Chosen One. The Chosen One who meant so much to her kind. The one who was supposed to change everything. And yet…

…she leaned into him and wrapped her fingers in his hair as she kissed him with everything she had. All the love she had to give him, she poured into that kiss and they were locked in that embrace for several minutes before he pulled her down onto the bed.

Smoothing the hair from her face, he gave her an enormous smile that touched his eyes and warmed her heart. "Nomes, I…"

She beamed at him, smiling with fondness, and kissed him again. She didn't need him to say it. Noma already knew.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Vega Dreams

Vega sparkled and twinkled under the night sky as its defense system looked dormant, yet ever ready, and trained on the outer world. The city had been in an upheaval since the slaughtered angels were displayed in the public eye, and the almighty Archangel Michael abruptly disappeared. Add Gabriel's appearance and disappearance, the sudden demise of Becca Thorn and the disposal of William Whele, and the whole city felt not only mournful for their leaders, but also a certain undercurrent of turmoil and fear. It was the perfect recipe for the collapse of Vega.

But Claire Riesen wouldn't have any of that. She knew what had transpired in House Thorn. It wasn't surprising that Becca had been working on the deconstruction of angel anatomy, since the wing restraints for Gabriel had to come from somewhere. But it _was_ shocking to find the body of a higher angel and various dissected angel parts. It was clear to her that things had gone awry and that perhaps the archangel had been pushed over the edge. _Not so perfect, I guess_, she thought as she stood in her bathroom, leaning over the sink. She was feeling sick not for the first time that day.

Looking at her pale reflection in the mirror, she knew that being pregnant was taking its toll on her. She had trouble sleeping and anything she ate usually came back up. Often, she woke up thinking that Alex was right next to her, holding her, telling her that everything would be all right. Claire had already re-read his letter to their unborn child so many times that she worried the paper was starting to look worn. If only circumstances were different.

Closing her eyes, Claire tried to will the bile back down and drown out the nausea. She couldn't stop thinking about that morning. The Senate meeting had not gone as she hoped. She wasn't completely surprised by everyone's reaction to her proposal, but she had hoped she could slowly make some headway after so many weeks. All she had to do was convince them that her father's number system needed to be changed. Give the people more free will and the option to vote on the things that impacted them.

The chaos that ensued from that proposal lasted for the entire meeting. The Senate was imbalanced since House Thorn was no longer represented. Although, it appeared Arika was vying for a place in the Senate and oddly enough David Whele was encouraging their acceptance of it. Luckily, so far, the rest of the Senate was not willing to comply.

Claire sighed and then swallowed again. The politics were driving her crazy. And David wouldn't speak to her about William or anything regarding the acolytes that were found burnt to a crisp in an abandoned warehouse. They were civil and David often talked to her about certain Senate issues, such as Arika's standing. She knew he was maneuvering as usual. Although not openly apparent, she knew that the loss of his son hit him hard and that he was covering it quite well. As always, he was covering his own assets in the process.

"Lady Riesen?" a muffled voice of her Archangel Corps guard, Ethan, called through the bathroom door. "You have visitors. Should I send them away?"

Claire cleared her throat and straightened, taking one last glance in the mirror. "No, that's quite alright. I'll be out in a moment."

"I will bring them to the sitting room." Ethan's footsteps retreated away from the door.

Claire rinsed her mouth and then plastered a fake smile on her face as she left the bathroom.

~~~~**D**~~~~

In the sitting room, Evelyn, still known only as Arika in Vega, sat on the settee with her legs crossed. She was regal as usual with perfect posture. Uriel stood nearby, still posing as her handmaiden. They had been busy lately, pushing and prodding David to do as they wanted. Evelyn couldn't help but smile as she remembered the look he had given her when she suggested that she take the empty seat in the Senate. Incredulous and possibly shocked, David recovered quickly and smiled at her, using a placating tone as he tried to dissuade her from her goal. It took a few weeks to bring him around, making it seem as if it was his idea and in his best interest to support her.

Uriel had been frustrated with the slow progress, seemingly on a different timetable than Evelyn's. It made Evelyn wonder what exactly Uriel's real end game was. Sure, the archangel had told her that she just wanted to end the war, bring about peace. But sometimes her actions differed from that original sentiment. As much as she enjoyed playing with the angel, she knew better than to implicitly trust her. And love was off the table. No matter how much her hearts strings were pulled occasionally by the blonde temptress.

Originally, they had wanted to take Claire and her growing baby to Helena, to lure the Chosen One away from the two warring brothers. But taking the Lady of the City so abruptly would lay waste to Evelyn's original well-laid plans. It took some convincing, but Uriel eventually agreed to stay in Vega for a little bit longer, most likely to keep an eye on their new leverage.

At the moment, they hoped that by attempting to confer with the Lady of the City, that they could gain her backing in Evelyn's entry into the Senate. And in the process, perhaps become trusted allies. It would make taking her to Helena that much easier. It would also be one step closer to securing Vega's nuclear power and Evelyn's eventual control over multiple settlements. She wanted peace, of course, and if Uriel's plan somehow ensured that, then Evelyn would continue to play along with her. But angels were known to be fickle. And dangerous. And the Queen of Helena knew when to be cautious.

Claire walked in a few moments after her guard retreated to the corner to stand post. She looked thinner than usual, and although she was probably only two months pregnant, she was beginning to show. Evelyn wondered if that was because the father was the Chosen One, or if there was something else at play. She pretended not to notice, keeping her eyes on Claire's pale face as she rose to greet her.

"Lady Riesen, how are you?" Evelyn asked as they all sat down together, Claire in an oversized chair and Evelyn back onto the settee. Uriel sat a little further away, her eyes focusing on Claire like a hawk. Evelyn made a mental note to remind Uriel to tone it down a bit.

"I am well. How are you two?" Claire responded without hesitation, a strong front as usual. Evelyn couldn't help but admire the woman.

"We are well," Evelyn responded with a smile. "We've come here to discuss a small matter…"

Claire nodded, "I have a feeling I know exactly why you are here."

Evelyn glanced at Uriel who didn't move, remaining rigid with a smile plastered on her face as she stared at the Lady, almost if she were staring through her. The angel was behaving oddly, actually. A moment of worry flashed through Evelyn, but she quashed it and turned back to Claire. "It is just that we would like to have a voice in the Senate and that can not be done without support. As a strong female leader, you understand the importance of that support."

Claire studied both of them for a moment. The wheels were turning as she distinctly ignored Uriel's strange behavior. Evelyn folded her hands and tried to look amiable. She could be ruthless but Claire needed a light touch these days. She knew that the Senate was in an uproar with all that was going on. Claire wasn't quite popular at the moment, but it was all about power and she still had it in abundance as the Lady of the City.

"Not to be disrespectful, but what makes you think that Helena has any right to be part of the Senate of Vega?" Claire had no qualms about getting straight to the point.

"Do you not agree that the settlements in the Cradle should become a united front against Gabriel and the angels out there? Wouldn't it be in everyone's best interest? Strength in greater numbers? Vega has soldiers and power and Helena has an air force. Why not combine our assets?" Evelyn smiled, but she could tell that Claire was unconvinced.

"Sounds more like it would benefit Helena rather than Vega, Arika." Claire responded, calmly. "And my lack of popularity these days would probably not be helpful to your cause anyway."

Suddenly, Uriel's whole body jerked for a moment, as if she were abruptly awoken. Blinking, her hand strayed to her side as if she were looking for something, as if it were holstered to her waist.

Evelyn gave her a stern look and then returned to smiling at Claire who was now studying Uriel with curiosity and perhaps mild apprehension.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked.

Uriel jerked again, only this time a strange expression crossed her face and suddenly she launched to her feet. "I can hear it! The fluttering!" she exclaimed, and then jolted forward, grabbing Claire's upper arms and grinning maniacally at her.

Startled by her behavior, Claire pulled away from her, pushing Uriel back and putting the chair she was sitting in between them. Alarm was written all over her face.

Evelyn immediately grabbed the angel by the arms and glared at her. "What is wrong with you? You are scaring the Lady of the City."

Uriel blinked and suddenly relaxed and seemed almost like herself. "What?" she responded, swallowing hard. She looked a little disoriented.

Claire was now on her feet and Ethan was standing next to her, rigid with adrenaline, and hand on his gun. Claire took a breath and then strongly said, "I think it is time for you to leave. I'm not sure what's wrong with your maiden, but perhaps the medical wing can help you."

Evelyn turned back to her and said in placating voice, "She is fine. We are so sorry to disturb you. I'm not quite sure what has come over her. Perhaps we can speak at another time."

Claire stepped a few steps behind Ethan as Evelyn steered a non-resistant Uriel away from them. Ethan was careful not to get too close to the two women, making it a point to stand between them and Claire.

Uriel walked stiffly, murmuring lightly, "I'm sorry. I don't know…what happened…"

Evelyn glanced back to see Claire subconsciously touch her lower abdomen and then the sight was obscured by Ethan's body as he quickly closed the doors behind them.

~~~~**D**~~~~

While leaving House Riesen, Evelyn tightly held onto Uriel's arm, almost to the point of causing pain. She could tell that Uriel was wincing, but the anger that Evelyn felt was barely contained. Hissing, she asked, "Why would you say that? What is wrong with you? You could have destroyed everything, Uriel!"

Uriel's broken expression made Evelyn want to hug the angel, but the fury that she felt made her want to slap her instead. She wouldn't dare to, but it was tempting.

The archangel swallowed stiffly, "My brother…my brother has been practicing his new skill…"

Confused, Evelyn let go of her, turning her blonde lover to face her. "What do you mean?"

"He knows, Evelyn. Gabriel knows about the child."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Down the Road

_Weeks ago…_

The sun was blinding as it scorched the barren desert road. The sand kicked up occasionally as a gust blew by, dancing among the arid landscape. William Whele had been walking for what seemed like ages and his skin felt like it was cracking in the dryness. He had taken his jacket off and used it to create shade for his head and face, covering what he could while keeping his long sleeves pulled all the way down. The heat was overwhelming, but he had to keep going. Keep moving.

William wasn't really sure which direction he was going. He just knew that he was walking _away_ from Vega. Away from his life. Away from his father. His father who had spared him, despite what he had done to him. Despite everything. And now he was probably going to die anyway, all alone out there in the desert. A slow burning agonizing death.

"Thanks Dad," William mumbled to himself as he kept trudging along. He already drank all the water and ate the few meal bars that his father had put in the knapsack. The night before, he had tried to sleep on the side of the road, but there were too many things crawling around him as well as on top of him. Something had already bitten his leg during the day when he had taken a moment to rest. He wasn't quite sure what it had been, but he had two large red angry welts growing on his left leg.

Yet he was still somehow able to walk. So…there was that. William huffed, squinting in the distance. _What little there was to be grateful for_, he thought.

The stretch before him seemed to blur for a moment as he came to an abrupt halt. He swayed slightly and started to wonder if he was hallucinating. Off in the distance, there was a man standing in the middle of the road. He wore a dark trench coat that covered his head. William squinted again, trying to figure out if the man was real or not.

And then the man sprouted enormous black wings.

William's heart felt like it stopped for a moment and then he quickly recovered, fumbling with the knapsack and pulling out the gun he had so stupidly put away. Barely able to pull it out in time, he stumbled backwards and tripped over himself, falling onto to the ground as the winged one abruptly landed right in front of him. Breathing heavily, William pointed the gun at the angel with his trembling hand.

"I'm here to help you, William." Gabriel's amused voice was almost playful. Definitely careless.

William didn't lower his gun even as Gabriel pushed back the hood on his coat, revealing his grinning face. The archangel held his hands splayed out as if to show that he came in peace.

William stammered, "You're here to help me?"

"Yes, of course," Gabriel said. "Unless you enjoy wandering the desert roads all by yourself. In the blazing sunlight?"

William gathered his wits and tried to form some semblance of coherency. He was dehydrated and had been thinking about Gabriel for hours now. Gabriel and his father. And Claire. And how his life was gone; how there was nothing left for him. Why had Gabriel not trusted him? Why did the archangel come to Vega? What was William's real purpose and value to Gabriel?

And why, oh why, did he think that Gabriel ever cared about him at all?

"What was the point?" he asked the archangel as he tried to stand up, putting more distance between them. His gun hand never lowered for a moment.

Gabriel clasped his hands together, trying to look as non-threatening as possible to his disheveled acolyte. "The point of what, William?"

"Why did you leave me there? Why didn't you tell me? ME? I thought I was your most trusted servant!" William yelled at him, no longer caring that he was antagonizing the almighty archangel. The one who forked people in the eye. For fun. "I worshipped you. I tried to do my best for you. I..."

Gabriel sighed. "Oh, William. You _were_ my trusted acolyte. And I still care for you greatly. You will be rewarded for your service. In fact, I was looking for you, hoping that we could meet once again, so that I may entrust you with another task." He paused, dramatically. And then as if he were truly mournful, he said, "Only to find that you were ousted from Vega."

"They were going to kill me!"

"It made me think that your usefulness had come to an end." Gabriel tilted his head as he studied a sputtering William, his hand still quaking as he kept the gun trained on him.

"My usefulness?" William rasped in disbelief. His face was covered in despair.

"Don't worry, William. You are still quite useful to our cause." The archangel smiled at him and stepped closer. "Why don't you put the gun down before your hurt yourself?"

"You left me… I've only wanted to serve you, Archangel Gabriel. I've only wanted to…" William's voice trailed off as he lost all thought. The sun was blinding and he wondered if maybe he was just losing his mind. That Gabriel wasn't actually here. That maybe he should take the gun and finally use it on himself. It was a thought he had contemplated often in the last twenty-four hours.

Until the archangel stepped even closer and gingerly took the weapon from him.

"You will continue to serve me, William. It will not be in Vega this time, but somewhere new to you. A place where you can slip in unnoticed and start again. Start your life over, do you hear me, William?" Gabriel grabbed the swaying human, steadying him.

"Wh-why are you…how am I supposed to…" William's eyes were unfocused as the dehydration and fatigue took its toll.

Gabriel roughly grabbed him by the jaw and tilted his head up, so that they were eye-to-eye now. "I'm giving you the opportunity at a new life, my trusted acolyte. You will start over. You will gather information and start another congregation, do you hear me?"

William blinked at the angel. Gabriel was real. This was happening. He came back for him. The archangel really _did_ care about him. He blinked again, and then with a sigh of relief, William smiled at him. He whispered, "You came for me."

Gabriel smiled in that mischievous way of his and said, "Hold on tight."

"Wha…" William's voice cut off as Gabriel abruptly wrapped his arm around the man's torso and yanked him off of his feet, taking flight into the cloudless sky. Within seconds, they were soaring across the desert bleakness. Off to a cooler climate. Off to the north.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Healer

A light wind blew through a stately room bathed in sunlight that cascaded through two open ceiling-to-floor French doors. The doors led out to a small terrace that overlooked a wide unpaved town square. The brightness was in stark contrast to the dark earth tones that adorned the space. Mostly antique furniture, including large wooden bookshelves against one wall and a carved mahogany desk in the middle of the room, made it seem as if the space were misplaced in time. As if the room belonged elsewhere. Long hunter-green drapes hung in front of the available windows that decorated both sides of the office. Ornately decorated chairs were placed before the desk and a larger one was behind it.

And in that chair sat a tall being that shook with anger. One hand gripped the edge of the desk while his whole body sat rigidly in place, back straight, legs poised. His eyes were glazed over as if he were looking off into a great distance and his medium full lips were set in a scowl. "I can hear it! Fluttering!" he blurted out into the empty open space. He gripped the table harder, almost on the verge of breaking the edge of it as he continued to stare at nothing.

A light knock could be heard at the door and then it opened and closed quickly, quietly announcing Azrael as she slipped into the room, still wearing her uniform and fully armed. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she looked hurried, only to slow to a halt in front of the desk. Without speaking, she tilted her head, studying the regal one as he continued to look through her as if she wasn't there. He didn't move, nor did he acknowledge her appearance.

Knowing better than to interrupt him, Azrael kept quiet and fell into a soldier's rest stance, hands clasped lightly behind her. She was used to waiting after all this time, keeping vigilance over those around her, especially this one, even as she drilled soldiers and acted as a second-in-command in New Delphi. She could be patient a little longer.

She watched him as he struggled with his composure and wondered how long he had been in the trance. He was dressed in his casual uniform of all black, including tight black cargo pants, black long-sleeved shirt under a black vest with shiny grey scrolling filigree in its design, topped off with a silken black tie and black utility boots that had probably seen better days. His black worn-out leather jacket hung over one of the chairs as did his red-edged Kevlar vest that he wore for appearances when he left the office. It had his red sigil on the front of it; a powerful sigil, a visual aid to keep the others in line. Being the Max Crew Boss of New Delphi took a lot of work and bloodshed, Azrael knew from first-hand experience.

All so that they could bring order to the chaos and mutiny that once threatened to tear apart the remaining humans in the settlement. And to ultimately save their lives, even if it meant saving them from themselves. The small skirmishes that occurred occasionally were nothing compared to the all-out war that was brewing between the rebels, drug users and one particular large crew of cutthroats. People were being slaughtered and kidnapped, and dying from severe poverty, disease, or overdoses. There was no real order to New Delphi's society, no rules and no infrastructure. And there was no hope unless you belonged to a crew or a rebel group. But that required payments in kind; either services rendered or some other way to pay for their "family hospitality."

And then the Max Crew Boss of the strongest cutthroats at the time discovered that he could ensure his position by hooking everyone on a new drug called The Slip. If you were Slipping, you were probably sitting in a corner staring into space as your mind rushed off to another more pleasant place. The drug was highly addictive and decayed the body rather quickly. Azrael had seen enough humans slowly disappear into the Slip Off, where a human's mind could no longer readjust to this reality, permanently disappearing into their own thoughts and desires. For some it was bliss, for others it was torture.

Azrael remained frozen and unblinking much like a statue as she waited and remembered some of the atrocities that she had witnessed when she first infiltrated her way into the settlement. She had helped several humans pass over during that time. Before she found him. Before she found out his plan and decided to aid him in it. Michael had Vega to deal with and Azrael had been scouting New Delphi to report back to Helena, although that hadn't gone as planned. Clearly.

Azrael blinked and then allowed herself to sigh. The last few years had not gone as she had planned. And seeing Michael had brought all of her own desires back to the forefront – something she had quashed a long time ago. She shifted her weight for a moment, readjusting a sword and then settled back into her stance, gazing past the being in front of her to the long broad sword mounted on the wall behind him. It gleamed as usual and was a reminder of his ability to smite those around him. A reminder of his archangel status, even if no one else really knew of his true nature. It seemed to aid him in their quest to bring some order to the settlement. She focused back on the attractive powerful male in front of her.

His sandy light-brown medium-length hair fluttered in the light breeze that blew through the room, and then he blinked, jerking in his seat for moment as if he suddenly came back to himself. His hand remained gripping the table as he refocused and then realization came over him as he looked up at Azrael. Letting go of the table, he immediately stood up, anger still etched across his face. Growling, he spat, "She's carrying the Chosen One's child!"

Azrael tilted her head. "Who is?"

He glared at Azrael, yelling, "You told me Uriel was in Helena! Why is she in Vega with Evelyn? What is she doing there?"

"Uriel has her own agenda, as you know, Raphael. I've told you that she's playing a different game."

Raphael let out a sigh of exasperation, pausing as he composed himself, staring at her. "The Lady of the City is pregnant. And I have to assume that Gabriel already knows this, if Uriel knows this. But why is Evelyn in Vega?"

She didn't move, unfazed by his unblinking stare. "The Chosen One's child? Uriel will surely be vying for control over it. But Evelyn is looking for more resources. We've been over this."

Raphael didn't move, mulling something over. And then he snapped, slamming his fist into the desk, which resulted in the dark wood cracking in the middle, splintering across and making the entire thing shudder with instability.

Azrael didn't flinch, hands still clasped behind her, watching his outburst with almost no interest. It wasn't the first time the Healer Archangel had lost it in his foray into the human world.

"What is the _point _of all of this?" Raphael rasped as he ran his fingers through his hair and again tried to rein himself in. "And where _is _Michael? Have you found him yet? I want to end this charade!" He paused, looking past the open French doors, out at the bright light that bathed everything. Sighing, he said quietly, "I miss Home, Azrael."

Shifting, she tried to contain her own emotions that suddenly flared up at the mention of their world of light. "I do, too."

"You haven't found him yet?" Raphael smoothed his vest and calmly sat down in his chair again, ignoring the broken desk in front of him.

"Not yet. I will. And he will help us. I'm sure of it," she said evenly. Telling him about Michael was not something she was ready to do. Michael wasn't ready yet, and she knew it.

"And the Chosen One? What of him? Still with Gabriel?"

"So my sources tell me." Azrael responded, quietly, watching as the archangel transitioned back into the unfazed Max Crew Boss. He often portrayed himself as a flippant sarcastic mercenary and Azrael acted as his right hand. Both came off as ruthless whenever possible. But in private, she had seen him as his usual compassionate self, as the angel who wanted to save and heal everyone and then retreat back to the Light. It was the part of him that he only showed her and those he healed. It was how they slowly had turned things around in the settlement and she admired him for his ability to switch between the two extremes. It was his plan after all, to help these humans, keep them from the brink of extinction. And he'd do it with the bluntness of a sword if need be.

"And no progress with His words on his skin?" Raphael folded his hands in his lap as he studied the dark-haired angel in front of him.

"It appears not."

"Seems Gabriel has other plans," he contemplated. "It makes sense now why the Chosen One went to the aerie. He is saving his progeny and Vega from Gabriel. Gabriel probably threatened him. What plan could he possibly have if he already has Alex Lannon?"

"Why don't you possess Gabriel and see for yourself?" Azrael treaded lightly in this subject, but she didn't like that he had started this quest once more. Years ago, Raphael had attempted possession in order to gain more information on Gabriel. His justification had been "to aid Michael." But he gave up on it once he realized how difficult it would be to try to possess a higher angel. Technically, it was probable that most of the archangels could possess a lower angel, if they had the inclination to do so. But to possess a higher angel was much more…invasive. And disturbing for both the possessor and the possessed.

He glared at her, "You know that I can not. And will not."

"So you draw the line at Uriel?" Azrael broached, her own ire now flaring up. "Why not find Michael in this manner?"

He looked stricken and abashed. "I do not enjoy possession, and you know that! I have only done so with Uriel because she and I were close once and we have a connection."

"And what else have you learned from possessing your twin's form?"

Raphael stood up again, his royal-blue eyes blazing. "I've learned enough! Do not start down this path again, Azrael! We do what we must in order to move forward in this ridiculous war! We are all here at the mercy of this human world and there is _nothing_ we can do about it! Father has abandoned _all _of us!" He pounded once more on the broken desk, this time it collapsed completely, falling to the floor in a splintered mess.

Standing there, the archangel heaved deeply, his hands balled into fists.

And then he looked at Azrael and found that she now had both of her swords out, splayed open and ready for any attack. Raphael shook his head for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he stood straighter and unclenched his fists.

And then he smirked at his friend, defusing the situation. "Really? The swords?"

A flash of surprise crossed Azrael's face as she glanced down and realized what she had done. She hadn't even noticed that she had pulled them out.

"You really gonna fight me with swords, Azrael?" he teased, using an exaggerated sarcastic tone, often the tone that he would use when dealing with people as the Max Crew Boss.

Recovering quickly, Azrael gave him a dirty look as she relaxed her stature.

A loud knock at the door interrupted them.

"Max Boss, I've got Will Zail here to see you." A voice hesitantly penetrated the door.

Raphael gave Azrael a snide side-glance while he walked around the mess and put on his Kevlar vest. It made his broad-shouldered tall physique even more intimidating.

Azrael quickly holstered her swords and took a soldier's stance nearby, face schooled and stoic once more as Raphael smoothed his long sleeves and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Bring him in," Raphael commanded, smirking slightly.

The door opened and a soldier stepped in, holding the door open for none other than William Whele. Dressed in faded jeans, grey shirt and a brown bomber jacket, Vega's former Principate looked like he had assimilated into New Delphi's less-than-savory societal norms. His dark hair was cropped so short that it was almost spikey and he was sporting a few bruises, including one on his jawline and a fading one under his left eye. He probably had seen better days.

Walking into the office, William Whele, now known only as Will Zail, still seemed to radiate confidence and authority. Standing in front of Raphael, he waited for the soldier to close the door behind him before speaking.

Raphael smirk was gone, studying the man. Azrael remained still like a statue.

"Why are you here, Zail? Have you come to join the Oracle Corps?" Raphael asked.

William shifted his weight. "No, Max Boss. As I'm sure you know, I would not be suited for the Oracle Corps."

"Then we have no business here, and you can go." Raphael turned away from the man and strode over to his chair, plopping himself down, feigning nonchalance, although Aztrael could see the tension in his movements.

William took a step after him, but then stopped as he noticed a slight shift in Azrael's stance. He swallowed, ignoring all the warning bells in his head. Focusing back on Raphael, William spoke up, "I came here for another matter, Max Boss."

Raphael sighed with exaggeration and then motioned to him to continue. Azrael tried not to roll her eyes.

William spoke to Raphael from across the room. "I have…_we_ are in need of your…expertise. You know that my small group has only banded together out of necessity, and that our neutrality is tentative at best these days? Well, one of our members was taken from us a few days ago by the Delphi Alliance. She was returned to us this morning, beaten and broken. But worst of all, she has fallen into the Slip Off."

Azrael shifted as Raphael hissed, "Another one?"

"Another one, Max Boss?"

"The Delphi Alliance has been testing the waters, Zail. You know that they are the last of the major crews in this settlement. Oracle Corps has been keeping watch." Raphael paused, studying the human. "Was there something else?"

William swallowed again. Asking the ruthless Max Boss for anything could be detrimental to his health, as well those in his little group that he had cobbled together. It consisted of a group of outsiders who didn't belong to Oracle Corps or Delphi Alliance. There were only a few small groups like his in the settlement and they only existed by the grace of this ruthless leader who somehow kept Delphi Alliance from completely slaughtering them all.

In the past, those that operated outside of the confines of the crews often benefited by this neutrality, playing off the crews and buying and selling to anyone. But since Oracle Corps. grew and took over, William was told by those that had been living there for years that so many things had changed. He was just glad that he had something to belong to again. It had taken him a few weeks to finally be included and then naturally rose to being a leader. And now the one woman that he had taken a liking to in this bastard place had been kidnapped, beaten and hooked on some ridiculous drug.

With balled fists, William calmly asked with a slight angry tremor in his voice, "I was told that you could reverse the effects of the Slip Off. I've come here to request for your assistance, Max Boss."

Raphael stared at him, not moving for a moment. It was hard to discern what he was thinking. He looked more angry than pensive. And then he stood up, quickly walking up to William and roughly grabbing him by jacket. "And you're sure that it was the Delphi Alliance?"

"Yes! It was them!"

Raphael tightened his grip on William's jacket. "If you're lying, Zail, I will end you."

Azrael snorted.

Raphael shot her a glare, but William was shaking. Shaking with anger more than fear. He yanked away from the archangel, taking a step back and spat out, "I'm not lying. _They_ took her! They have been taking others! They're doing something to people for no reason! And what has the Oracle Corps done? Nothing!"

Raphael stepped closer to the human, standing at his full height, which towered over William. The imposing nature of his height and the glare that he turned on William made the human rethink his own anger.

"The Oracle Corps has been saving your little group from being completely disintegrated and yet you show no gratitude with your arrogance and your preaching of a better life with faith and worshipping." Raphael said in an eerily calm and even tone.

William's mouth fell open in surprise. "How did you…"

"I'm well aware of your recruiting sessions. Searching for those who want to join your little group of worshippers. Using the myth of the Chosen One to take advantage of people is just as questionable as the other practices in New Delphi. So don't you dare take a righteous tone with me!"

William closed his mouth, trying not to look too relieved. It was clear that the Max Boss had no idea that he was actually recruiting for Gabriel, not for the worship of the Chosen One. This meant William had been successful in flying just under the radar. It made him almost smile, but he tried for meek instead. "I'm sorry, Max Boss. I'm just…the woman that was taken…she is…I care for her. I will pay and I will be of service to you, if you want or need me to be. In exchange for your cure."

Azrael glanced at the archangel. She wanted to shake her head and interrupt him before he agreed to help the human. Raphael had healed enough people in this settlement.

Raphael glared down at William who now wouldn't look him in the eye. The archangel hesitated. Healing still came easy to him, but the Slip Off was more complicated than a typical healing of a wound. It took more effort to bring back a human's mind as opposed to knitting together sliced flesh. And to do a Healing with no witnesses became increasingly harder to do. If word got out that it was his own abilities that healed these people, most likely his archangel status would also be revealed. And so far, he had been able to keep that under wraps.

"I beg of you, Max Boss," William almost whispered as he looked up at the imposing angel and noticed how fierce his face looked.

And then Raphael blinked, smirked at him and roughly clapped him on the shoulder, almost sending the human to the floor. "Bring her here this evening. Only she may enter this room, and you can wait downstairs. No one else. And then…" Raphael paused, smiling largely. "And then, you will do a few things for me. I have a few errands that need to be taken care of. A few that only someone like you can take care of."

William nodded, "Ok. Yes! It's a deal then?" He put out his hand to shake on it.

Raphael ignored it and walked back to his chair and sat down, lounging back as if he were relaxing on a lawn chair. He dismissed him with a nod. "This evening."

William nodded and then turned to leave. Azrael was suddenly standing there with a stoic expression, holding the door open for him. The human shuddered slightly and then left the room with Azrael closing the door behind him.

Walking over to Raphael, Azrael paused in front of the destroyed desk. Raphael looked pensive, tapping his chin absently.

"Delphi Alliance has now violated our truce three times in the last two weeks." Azrael stated without emotion.

"It seems so." Raphael said, staring at nothing as the wheels turned in his head.

"I know you're avoiding bloodshed."

"I am."

"And if that doesn't work?" Azrael asked.

"Not _everything_ needs to be solved by a sword, Azrael." Raphael said, quietly.

She nodded, more to herself. As much as the others thought she enjoyed solving everything in that manner, she actually preferred less messier methods. It just happened to be that she was quite good at the other option.

Raphael looked at the dark-haired angel, again standing in a soldier's stance. He often wondered if that just felt natural to her, or if she had adopted that mannerism from the years of being in New Delphi as the General of Oracle Corps. Taking the last step and dismantling Delphi Alliance would take another war, which was what he was trying to avoid. Only in the last year had he been able to gain some stability in New Delphi, especially after the fall of Channa's crew. Having another war would make them lose more lives. Again.

He sighed. "Maybe the sword _is_ the only way in this settlement."

"More like the gun." Azrael cracked a smile.

Ignoring her, he stated, "Either way they die." Raphael shook his head, leaning his elbows on his knees and making a steeple with his fingers.

"If Gabriel has his way, they will all die eventually."

"Gabriel and his grand plans. Killing everyone will not bring Him back. And if he did, it would only anger Him." He paused, thinking. "Where is He?" Raphael said quietly, more to himself.

Azrael's smile disappeared and she shifted her swords as she took a seat across from him. She stared at him. "You need to stop that, Raphael."

"Stop what, Azrael? Wonder where the fuck our creator disappeared to? Why our Home is disappearing? Why we're stuck _here_ trying to help creatures that don't want to be helped?" Raphael spat, his ire again roiling underneath.

Azrael said in an even calming tone, "It's not productive, Raphael. This life you've created for yourself…for us…you're doing His work. You're trying. Just…"

"Just WHAT?" Raphael's pained face stared back at her.

They were silent for a moment. Azrael understood his pain. She felt the same way, but she refused to dwell on it. It didn't serve her so she put it in a box, which was something she was good at doing. It was the only way she was able to help people cross over… or force them to. Compartmentalization worked on many levels for her.

"Go find Michael, damn it! Find him! Now! We need him," Raphael said in a dark tone.

Arzael studied her partner in all of this chaos. Bringing Michael here might cause even more upheaval, but she knew Raphael was running out of ideas and so was she.

Standing abruptly, she adjusted her swords and stood at attention like a good soldier. In a deadpan sarcastic tone, she said, "Ok, _Max Boss_. On it, _Max Boss._ Anything else, _Max Boss?"_

He threw her a disgusted look as he leaned back in the chair. "Don't do that."

Azrael's face was stoic as she looked at him for a moment. When she opened her mouth, her tone was even and scarily calm. "Don't make me remind you, Raphael."

He sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. She had a point. The longer he played this role, the easier it was to slip into demanding obedience from others. And then the violence involved when pretending to be a merciless mercenary… well that was scarily intoxicating. But Raphael didn't have to worry too much. Azrael would gladly beat the behavior out of him, as she had done once in the past.

The warrior angel stared at him for a moment longer and then didn't say anything more as she walked away from him, quietly leaving through the door and leaving him to contemplate their next move.

~~~**D**~~~

Author's Note: Apologies for such delays between chapters. Life and NaNoWriMo prep have gotten in the way. There will be more Michael soon, and more in general soon! I promise!


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